


Pizzocchero

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: DO NOT BADMOUTH THE FOXE ESKA WILL KILL U, Everything will be fine, THERES FOXE!!!!! A GOOD BOY IS HERE!!!!, a big fat boy, also a fat boy, also the foxes name is basically an italian dish, but the foxe is a good boy, hes just Terrified of canines, its just.... random fluff, kim Does Not Like, not bc hes gross, pls still tell me how is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 16:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: Dogs were not allowed in the Studios, that much Eska knew.However, he also knew that Pizzocchero was not a dog.He was a fox.





	Pizzocchero

Pizzocchero was a fox.

 

Not a cunning, energic, bright fox, the kind that jumps all around and makes lots of noises and sneaks away to steal chickens and bites and plays.

 

Pizzocchero was a lazy fox.

 

One that barely moved his paw to even try and touch Kaltsa’s or Stuhl’s tail as the lizards ran around the apartment. That ate clean raw meat from the hand of his human because he didn’t want to stand up. That couldn’t have cared less about biting or barking or being aggressive. That liked to sleep.

Maybe, had he grown in the wild that had seen his birth, he would’ve had become the pride and joy of his species. But he was very little and very alone when a pair of bare feet approached him for the first time with food and water, and when those hands that became smaller and smaller as time passed held his tiny red body to take him to a nice place, a warm place, where someone would curl up in a ball around him and hide his face in his fur every night to sleep.

 

And maybe, he would’ve been a lazy piece of walking fat no matter what.

 

Dogs were not allowed in the Studios, that much Eska knew.

However, he also knew that Pizzocchero was  _not_  a dog.

He was a fox.

 

Therefore, allowing him to roam free in the building was a perfectly sound decision that could have not led to any backfiring.

 

Too bad Kim was not aware of the loose canine.

An audible gasp that sounded more like a strangled cry of terror escaped his mouth as soon as the small ball of orange fur came into his vision, and before he could actually do anything productive (such as throwing something at the intruder to attempt knocking it out) his brain activated a primitive ‘flight’ reflex in the face of danger and made him jump on his chair, eyes wide in horror pointed on the fox. Specks of gold gleamed fearfully in his dark irises, even though the lights weren’t dim enough for Pizzocchero to see that very well.

The lazy beast came closer, sniffing this new person he’d never before smelled, and was greatly surprised as he saw him spring from his chair to his desk in the swiftest movement known to animal. Bravo!, he’d have exclaimed in awe had he had the ability to speak and the knowledge of what such a word meant.

“The fock’s happenin’?”

Shawn reached his friend’s work station, or at least he tried, before noticing a small bag of meat and realizing with a cussing shout that yes, there was, indeed, a possibly rabies infected demented fox about two inches from his left foot.

Pizzocchero was seconds away from being kicked against a wall strong enough for at least five of his bones to break.

 

He was gracefully none the wiser.

 

_“Don’t touch.”_

The Irishman retreated his leg so quickly he almost fell to the ground. Dangling from a vent on the ceiling, Eska glared at him with the ferocity of a mother bear. Pizzocchero gave a weak bark to politely greet his human; Kim did not move an inch from the table he was terrifiedly attempting to hide on top of.

“Is it yours?!” he asked, pointing a trembling finger to the wild pomeranian.

“He is.”

“Does, does he bite?!”

“Pizzocchero doesn’t.”

“C-could you please keep him away from me? Please?!”

Being the gentle and comprehensive demonic entity he was, the factotum obliged, kindly spiriting the fox away into his scrawny arms and proceeding to scuttle back inside his air-conducting corridor, keeping his indolent pet whom did not carry any kind of disease as far from the man barricaded on his work table as he could.

 

Shawn stared at the darker man as soon as the impish creature had disappeared: “Yer scared a’ that little wee thing?” he mocked with a smirk.

“Shut up! You were about to kick it through the wall!” Kim defended himself.

 “That’s because it’s hideooo…” his voice died right there in his throat before he could end his sentence at the sight of Eska’s almost glowing eyes poking from the dark, filled with an amazing amount of murderous energy.

The Irishman knew, had it not been for the fact Willy cared too greatly about him for the creature to break his silent promise not to kill, the handyman would have treated him with something far worse than just a bone-chilling cautionary hiss. But perhaps more humiliating was Kim’s soft chuckle at the scared grimace that had taken over his face.

“Oh, shut yer trap, Mr. Doggies-scare-the-crap-outta-me!” he yelled as his cheeks grew more and more scarlet.

“At least _I_  know how to keep minor deities on my good side.”

“Are ye sayin’ some kinda tacky god whatchamacallit’s got a problem with me? ‘Cause then he can come he’e and tell me right feckin’ now!”

“I think he heard you.”

 

“I did.” a soft echo reached them.

 

“Then show yaself, ya bastard!” Shawn screamed, and for the next two minutes he turned around feverishly, fists clenched, eyes vigilant, ready to fight the semi-paranormal threat that had responded Kim’s call, who, meanwhile, was having the time of his life - finally down from his table and sitting safely once again - staring at his friend trying to find just what exactly was he supposed to punch.

Instead, a voice with an accent similar to his reached them, loud enough to be heard from the stairs that led to the giant sign reading ‘Heavenly Toys’ and just about way too angry: “SHAWN! GET THE FOCK BACK T’ WORK!”

“I’m already doing that!”

“THEN WHY DID ESKA TELL ME YOU AIN’T?”

Shawn froze, stupefied. Kim held back a laugh as he stared at his disoriented companion, until all the Irishman had left to do was sit down, bewildered, and start painting once again.

 

* * *

 

Eska appeared in the break room so suddenly, Jack jerked his arm in surprise and the dart he was throwing ended up stuck on the ceiling.

Completely ignoring the curses and general chaos that normally infested the room everytime the fatidic morning shift ended, he headed straight for the table Kim was sitting at, a bundle of red fur in his arms. He stopped a couple of meters before reaching the terrified man and extended his long arms, presenting his fat fox to him.

Johnny and Shawn, each on a chair beside their friend, looked back and forth between him and the masked man-shaped lovecraftian horror, attempting to understand the logic of such a silent exchange.

 

After a time that felt impossibly long, the factotum finally regained the ability to speak, opting to only say a single word in the tone of a soft order: “Pet.”

 

Kim stared at Pizzocchero as if his soul had detached itself the second he’d recognized him.

 

“No thanks.” he replied with his weakest breath.

 

The langly devil didn’t move an inch.

 

“No, really, I’m… I’m good.”

 

The handyman retracted the fox slightly, but didn’t give up.

“Why.” he demanded to know.

“I’m just… Not. A fan. Of dogs and company.”

“Don’t bite.”

“You already said that, a-and, look, I swear, I trust you, but… I really, really don’t like canines. In general.” Kim smiled nervously. “Sorry.”

“Pizzocchero you can trust.”

“Because…?”

“Too lazy.”

“To do what?”

“Anything.”

 

The toy maker fidgeted with his hands, biting his lip nervously. 

“… What if I do something that makes him angry?”

 

Eska stared at him deep into his pupils without a tint of emotion in his eyes. He gently placed the fox down, letting him spread on the floorboards like a small sack of colorful powder, and then proceeded to throw all caution to the wind and manage the small canine as if he’d been a bread dough.

Pizzocchero was rolled around and flipped over, simply gekkering softly every now and then without energy nor care.

Once he was done, the supposed human turned to Kim once more.

 

“You’re good.” he concluded.

 

Kim remained completely still on his chair, with an utterly unsure grimace on his worried face.

 

“You can’t be serious.” Johnny whispered, tugging his shirt’s sleeve, “You can’t  _really_  be afraid of that thing. Look at it! It’s more docile then an Edgar plushie! It can’t hurt you!”

Shawn snickered, nabbing his sides: “Jesus, yer acting like when Niamh’s around. Except, well, yer  _showing_  how scared this makes ya.”

 

Then they actually took notice of their friend’s progressive stillness in the area of the lungs and color washing off his face as if bleached, but before they could try to help Kim had already been gently grabbed by the wrists and lowered from the chair to the floorboards.

 

Eska’s cinnamon hands had some sort of smooth roughness to them, the toy maker noticed as he did his best not to freak out about his limb being dangerously close to the fox’s snout. The tip of his fingers felt particularly… soft. As if no callus could grow there, or if it ever did, it got sucked right back into the skin the second it formed there.

 

He snapped out of his thoughts when something of the same consistency of a baby chick brushed against his palm.

 

Eska kept petting Pizzocchero with Kim’s hand until the other felt able to do so on his own.

For about thirty seconds neither spoke.

 

“He’s… He’s very soft.” the darker man finally muttered. On his face glowed an amazed smiled, his eyes starry.

 

The factotum proudly patted the bundle of ginger fur.

Pizzocchero licked Kim’s fingers and gekkered satisfied.


End file.
